


Friends with Benefits (like free alcohol and brunch)

by redambitions (viridianlight)



Series: Walk Beside Me in the Dark [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, body issues, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridianlight/pseuds/redambitions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His new girlfriend is pretty, talented, nice and perfect, so she sucks a lot, but Eponine will always have Grantaire and Courfeyrac (plus alcohol) with her and who knows? Maybe something good can come out of this (but probably not. Eponine has never been an optimist).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends with Benefits (like free alcohol and brunch)

**Author's Note:**

> This is during the first semester of sophomore year, when Grantaire is still hopelessly in love with Enjolras, Enjolras is starting to pine over Grantaire, Courfeyrac is kinda sorta smitten with Jehan, Jehan is kinda sorta smitten with Courfeyrac (but they aren't really together. They're kinda sorta together but not really), and Combeferre has to deal with all of this because he's the dad.
> 
> Sorry if it's not too good. I've been revising this over and over for a long time now but I just can't write any more? I might edit it in the future. Please tell me what you think and leave some constructive criticism.

"Good god, she's fucking perfect.”  
  
Eponine slams her head against the back of Combeferre's tan sofa, where she and Grantaire are lounging together against the armrest. She had changed from her old blazer and Musichetta's indigo dress into one of Courfeyrac's Abercrombie flannels and Jehan's oversized, penguin pajamas. Her sore feet were finally released from her only pair of decent-looking heels — plain, black ones (instead of her strappy ones that Grantaire always thought looked like stripper shoes) — and are now covered by fluffy fabric and being massaged by Grantaire. An open bottle of tequila is settled between her knees. It was like the high school days again, except instead of stolen beer, they had tequila.  
  
“No she's not,” Grantaire says, brushing Eponine's tousled, brown hair out of her braid. “I mean, she can't do half the things she says she does. If she does, she must have no life at all. Piano, flute, ballet... what kind of cliché, boring Barbie girl must she be?” But she was actually pretty cool. A girl Grantaire would want to be friends with.  
  
Courfeyrac walks in from the kitchen, changed from his button-up shirt and slacks to sweats, with a platter of hot chocolate and Jehan's muffins. He sets it down on the coffee table and sits at Grantaire's side. “Yeah. Kinda blonde-ish and blue eyes? Must be fake. Dyed, or something. And her face is way too pretty, not interesting at all. I bet her daddy paid for some fancy plastic surgery.”  
  
“Courf is right,” Grantaire hands Eponine a cranberry muffin and grabs a blueberry one for himself. “Marius will see just how fake and dumb she is and come to his senses.” He takes a bite of the muffin and washes it down with a swig of tequila.

  
Courfeyrac stuffs half of a chocolate muffin in his mouth. “And wearing some lacy, lilac dress that looks like crap on her? Her dad must spoil her and —.”  
  
“Shut up!” Eponine throws the muffin down onto the carpet. “Shut up, both of you!”  
  
Grantaire and Courfeyrac stop talking and eating immediately. No one just throws Jehan's baking unless they were pissed. Jehan's baking is sacred.  
  
“She's perfect and not fake at all. She's insanely pretty and she does do all those things. Her dad's amazing, generous and great. Fuck.” Eponine covers her face with her hands.  
  
“You don't know that...” Courfeyrac starts, then he sees Grantaire furiously shaking his head in the back.  
  
“But I do know that!” Eponine cries.  
  
“What?”  
  
Eponine groans and hides her face in Grantaire's shoulder.  
  
“Cosette lived with Eponine when they were little,” Grantaire explains to Courfeyrac while rubbing Eponine's back.  
  
“What? Why don't I know about this?”  
  
“Her mom couldn't find a job with a kid in tow so Cosette lived at their old inn.”  
  
“And she really was that pretty, even as a little kid,” Eponine says. “Well, until my parents got to her. They... mistreated her but she's still an angel. And then this man shows up one day and takes her away. So now, she has a perfect life, good for her.” Eponine deflates a little and shrinks back against Grantaire. Grantaire kisses her hair.  
  
“You haven't seen her in years. She might've changed or —.”  
  
“She's gorgeous Courf! Stop denying it. I saw you checking her out and you know you did.”  
  
Courfeyrac blushes a little. Grantaire thinks that it isn't a good time to mention that the waiter thought Cosette was a model when Eponine was in the restroom or how much he enjoyed talking with Cosette about modern art and ballet (even though Grantaire hasn't danced in years and yes, he did ballet, now shut up.) Cosette also talked to Courfeyrac about his beloved theater and Broadway. Courfeyrac was practically bouncing out of his seat with happiness.  
  
“You guys don't have to pretend to hate her. I can't even hate her and I hate a lot of things,” Eponine says. “She invited me to go her dance studio. I told her that I did modern dance for a while and she wants me to teach her kids for a day.”  
  
“That's good. You miss dancing,” Grantaire says. He and Eponine used to dance around in his room whenever she snuck over. When Eponine found a dance studio that her parents' friend owned, Grantaire was so excited (even if it was quite old and suspicious. He was pretty sure that it was actually a drug dealer's headquarters.)  
  
Eponine shrugs. “Yeah. I told her I'd think about it. I don't know if I can handle being with her so soon after...” Eponine waves her hand randomly in the air. “After all this shit. I would really like to go to a dance studio though.”  
  
“I'm really sorry Ep,” Grantaire murmurs, bringing Eponine closer. “If Marius can't see what he's missing out on, then he's not the right guy for you.”  
  
“It's okay... Cosette's great. She's good for him... And maybe for me too. I just need a while to... to get over it.”  
  
“Of course. And we'll be here for you,” Grantaire says.  
  
Eponine smiles weakly. “Thanks. Do you mind if I crash here, Courf? I don't really want to be alone back in the dorms.”  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Courfeyrac says, standing up and brushing the crumbs off of his jeans. “'Ferre's spending the night with Joly so you can have his room. R, you staying too?”  
  
Grantaire nods. “Of course. What about Jehan?”  
  
“He's with Enjolras I think. He said he'll be back later so I'll wait up for him.”  
  
“Alright,” Grantaire says, starting to follow a yawning Eponine to Combeferre's room. “Don't be too loud when you're wooing him with cheesy poetry and movie quotes,” he teases.  
  
Courfeyrac groans. “Shut up. It's too late to be charming anyway. I'm just gonna make him some tea and go take a shower.”  
  
“By the way,” Grantaire says quietly, leaning closer to Courfeyrac. “Weren't you friends with Cosette for a while? And didn't you help Marius hook up with her?”  
  
Courfeyrac grins. “Yeah, but I thought it wasn't the best time to mention it. I called her before the dinner and told her. She's a good actress, isn't she? Cosette's a sweetheart, I hope Eponine gets to like her.”  
  
“I hope so too. She seems nice. I like her,” Grantaire says.  
  
“Eponine will come around.”  
  
“Well,” Grantaire yawns. “I'm tired so I'm gonna go get some shut-eye. Don't stay up too late."  
  
“Sure. Nighty night, R. Don't let the bed bugs bite.”  
  
:::::  
  
“Dude, you are not getting in this bed with those jeans on.”  
  
Grantaire looks down at his jeans. “Why? What's wrong with them? They're not thrift shop jeans.”  
  
“One, they're jeans. Two, they have paint all over them. Three, you've been wearing them for more than a week now. They're pretty gross R,” Eponine says.  
  
“Well then, what do you want me to wear?”  
  
“R,” Eponine begins. “I've seen you naked. Just strip down to your boxers and get in.” She lifts the comforter. “It's cold.”  
  
Grantaire sighs. “Fine.” He unbuckles his checkered belt quickly and steps out of his jeans. “At least it's dark.”  
  
“You're still that insecure about your body?” Eponine asks as Grantaire slips into the twin size bed with her. “I even wear short-shorts now.”  
  
Grantaire sighs. “Yeah. Doesn't help that my collection of scars keep growing. But that's my problem. Tonight's your night for crying and complaining.”  
  
“So I can complain about you?” Eponine jokes.  
  
“Sure, if you want to,” Grantaire says, blowing some of Eponine's hair off of his face. “Say whatever you want.”  
  
Eponine sighs. “Nah. It's too late for self-loathing.”  
  
“Mm-hm.”  
  
“Can I ask you something?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“...Am I just not attractive?”  
  
“No self-loathing, remember 'Ponine?”

 

“Sorry, but seriously though.”

 

“No Eponine. You're gorgeous on the outside and beautiful on the inside. Any man or woman would be lucky to have you. You just need to find the right one.”  
  
Eponine stays quiet.  
  
“Ep?”  
  
“Yeah. You're right R.” With the faint moonlight, Grantaire can see her smile. First genuine one of the night.  
  
“Of course I'm right,” Grantaire says, grinning.  
  
“Hope you don't mind if I get go to sleep now.”  
  
“Of course not. Sweet dreams, dear 'Ponine,” Grantaire says with a soft kiss to Eponine's forehead.  
  
Eponine shifts slightly and her breath deepens.  
  
“Sweet dreams,” Grantaire repeats quietly. “'Cause you definitely need and deserve them.”

  
:::::  
  
Grantaire wakes up to the smell of... holy fucking shit, it's bacon.  
  
“R, you up?” Eponine pops into the doorway, still wearing Jehan's ridiculous pajamas and Courfeyrac's shirt, with her hair scraped into a bun. Grantaire's jeans are in a pile beside the bed. A pair of sweats that seem oddly like the ones he lost months ago and a t-shirt that looks like one of Courfeyrac's is folded on the desk.  
  
Grantaire groans. “Yeah. God, it smells delicious. You seem to be handling your hangover well.”  
  
Eponine shrugs. “Yeah. Painkillers and coffee help a lot. Plus, you know, bacon. Jehan made brunch for us all so change and get some food.”  
  
“Okay,” Grantaire says, rolling off of the bed. “Be right out.”  
  
Eponine grins and runs back out to the kitchen. Grantaire can hear her laughter from the bedroom as he hurriedly changes into the clothes that were laid out for him.  
  
“And there's the sleeping beauty!” Courfeyrac yells as Grantaire comes out, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I thought I was going to have to kiss you to wake you up.”  
  
“Good thing I woke up then.”  
  
“Hey!” Courfeyrac pouts. “Courf kisses are rare and precious.”  
  
“No they aren't,” Eponine says from her seat on the counter. “You kiss at least three of us everyday and at least one stranger. Even more when you're drunk.”  
  
“It's true, Courf,” Jehan says, standing at the stove with his floral apron and his hair in a braid. “Good morning Grantaire. Food is almost done.”  
  
Courfeyrac laughs and pecks Jehan on his cheek. “Fine then. Let's just waste all the Courf kisses on darling Jehan here.”  
  
Jehan blushes happily and passes a plate of bacon and eggs to Grantaire. “Eat up, Grantaire. There's a lot more if you want seconds.”  
  
“Thanks,” Grantaire says, accepting the plate and sitting at one of the mismatched stools next to Eponine. “How are you, Ep?”  
  
“Good,” Eponine says, with a big mouthful of toast. “Better than I thought I would be.”  
  
“Oh? So how much better?” Courfeyrac asks, with his arms still circled around Jehan.  
  
Eponine shrugs. “Well, part of me still wants to viciously attack _her_ and I'm not going to get over _him_ for a very long time, but I decided, might as well make the most out of this. I texted her this morning. I'm gonna go to that dance studio in two weeks if I'm feeling better. Dancing used to help me relax so we'll see if it still does.”  
  
“Sounds wonderful,” Jehan says. “Courf told me that you were a great dancer.”  
  
“Hopefully I still am,” Eponine says, shooting a glare at Courfeyrac. “Haven't danced in years.”  
  
“Grantaire, didn't you dance when you were younger?” Jehan asks, untying his apron and plopping a teabag into one of his pastel, patterned mugs.  
  
Grantaire shrugs. “A little. I wasn't too good.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Courfeyrac says. “You were awesome in high school.”  
  
“And even better in middle school,” Eponine adds. “Before the alcohol and drugs happened.”  
  
“Some of that already happened in middle school,” Grantaire reminds her. “I was always a fucked up kid.”  
  
There is a pause in the conversation before Jehan speaks up,  
  
“You should go too Grantaire!” Jehan says.

  
Grantaire furiously shakes his head. “Oh fuck no. I don't dance anymore. I'm not going.”  
  
Eponine hops off of the counter. “Bathroom break. BRB.”  
  
“Oh, don't use text language in real life,” Grantaire groans.  
  
“Isn't it what all the cool kids are doing?” Eponine calls from the bathroom.  
  
“Definitely not,” Courfeyrac calls back. "If Gav starts talking like that, he'll be unbearable,” he mutters. “Eponine better not be a bad influence on Gav.”

 

“That kid doesn't need any more bad influences. Eponine's probably the best one he has,” Grantaire retorts. “Well, besides you maybe.”

 

Courfeyrac shrugs. “Yeah, not that I'm the best either.”  
  
After a quiet minute filled with awkward eating noises, Eponine comes back with an evil gleam in her eyes.  
  
"I emailed Co-- _her_ ," she announces.

  
"You have her email?" Courfeyrac asks, stopping from shoveling eggs in his mouth.

 

“I got it from the dance studio's website.”

 

“Oh. Why'd you email her?” Courfeyrac asks, now stuffing bacon into his face.  
  
"I told her that I'm bringing someone to the dance studio with me."  
  
Grantaire abruptly looks up. "Oh hell no. You didn't."  
  
Eponine laughs. "Yes I did. And you're coming."  
  
"Nope. No I'm not. You can't make me," Grantaire says, backing up slightly.  
  
"Ooh, let's all go!" Jehan says excitedly. "It would be good for everyone to meet Mari-- um, Cosette."  
  
Grantaire knows that Jehan was about to say "Marius' girlfriend" and is relieved to see that Eponine hadn't noticed. 

 

“That would be awesome,” Eponine says. “I can rant angrily to the guys and Grantaire can show off his moves.”

 

“Fuck no,” Grantaire says. “I'm not going.”

 

“You have to come!” Eponine says. “I need someone to hold me back in case I have the sudden urge to strangle someone. Or I'll need someone to strangle.”

 

Grantaire contemplates in silence, staring at Eponine who has his hands on her hips and staring straight back.

 

“...Fine.”

 

Eponine shrieks happily and kisses Grantaire's cheek. Jehan smiles and passes another plate of bacon to Grantaire. Courfeyrac high fives Grantaire and announces,

 

“Enjolras does love a good dancer.”

 

Grantaire starts, his eyes wide and blushes furiously.

**Author's Note:**

> redambitions.tumblr.com


End file.
